


Compromise

by GrapieBee



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Blood Moon Shit (TM), M/M, Partial Mind Control, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 00:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14032497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrapieBee/pseuds/GrapieBee
Summary: Had Aita known just how awful things would eventually get, had he know exactly what it meant to be influenced by a blood moon, he might have left Link’s side that night and might have never looked back. [OC belongs to busket on Tumblr Link: http://busket.tumblr.com/tagged/aita ]





	Compromise

**Author's Note:**

> Hey ya'll! As a heads up, Aita does not belong to me, but to the lovely Busket, found on Tumblr (link: http://busket.tumblr.com/tagged/aita ). Please, please pleaseeeeeee go check out her art and shit for him because he is a delighttt.

The only thing Aita knew about his birthday was that he was born under a blood moon. Everything else, from the date and year, to the names of his parents, was an unknown, discarded and forgotten before it could even matter to him.

The only thing that the Yiga Clan had deemed important was that he, out of everyone else in his generation, was the only one with the honor of being born directly under the great Calamity’s influence.

He’d been told, time and time again, that this was an honor few others could lay claim to. He was told this, and yet, a small part of him felt like this fact too should have been forgotten. Had he felt something, had there been so much as a single sign that this could actually give him any sort of advantage, he might have thought otherwise.

When he was only four, the first blood moon that he could remember came and went without so much as a warning. Despite his silent hopes, his quiet prayers that this fact about his birth would make him more useful, somehow a more powerful asset to his clan, he felt nothing under the red, eerie glow of that moon.

There were no otherworldly voices, no call to serve the Calamity, no sudden burst of inhuman strength, nothing that his child’s imagination had conjured up in the late hours of the night.

For all the pomp and circumstance that came with the only surviving fact about the first few days of his life, nothing exciting had ever come from it.

So, when Aita makes camp with Link for the evening, as always requesting that Mighty Bananas be incorporated into their meal somehow, he thinks nothing of it as the darkness of night settles in around them.

“Aita, we tried putting bananas into the last stew I made and I  _ know  _ you remember how well that went.”

“Ok, look, I really don’t think it was so bad. It was still plenty edible and it’s not my fault you’re so picky with your food.”

Had Aita been more focused on his companion and less so on emptying his travel pack of his favorite fruit, he might have seen Link shake his head, a hint of laughter mixing with his sigh. 

Oh, how ironic it was to be called a picky eater by Mr. I-only-enjoy-eating-Mighty-Bananas himself.

Turning his focus back to his cooking, Link began to carefully tear the Hyrule Herb in his hands into bite size pieces, adding them to the simmering pot.

“Aita, why don’t we compromise? Let me make the stew how I normally would and I’ll make you as many fried Mighty Bananas as you want for dessert. I promise not to add mushrooms to the stew this time. Sound like a deal?”

Link’s question hangs in the air, unanswered and unacknowledged. This wouldn’t be the first time Aita needed an extra beat or two to process or think through something offered in the past, even if it was something as simple as dinner. When an additional moment passed, and then another, Link turned his attention from the cooking pot back to his companion, wondering if his question had even been heard in the first place.

“Aita, di-?”

The question dies in his throat as a cold, terrible feeling settled in his guts at the sight that greets him.

Aita sat, inhumanly still, his hand still half way into his bag, his eyes fixated at the sky. Link let’s his attention flicker to upward for a moment, the coldness in his stomach suddenly a pit as he realizes a blood moon has begun to snake its way into view, the red tendrils of light slowly blocking the light of the stars.

His eyes flick back from the sky, attention now focused on the forest around them. Everything was unnaturally quiet. The wind was still. Even the gentle crackling of the fire seemed suddenly muted. Something was different about this blood moon, but he couldn’t place what.

He tenses slightly as he turns his attention back to Aita, that sixth sense of his telling him that something was coming, that a precipice had been reached, that they needed to hide until the danger had passed. Or, at least, until he could see what the danger was and decide if it could be fought.

“Aita,” he says in a whisper, “we need to get away from the fire and out of sight. Something’s off-”

When Aita finally turns back to him, finally breaks eye contact with the ferociously red moon, Link only has a moment to react to what he’s met with. 

Wide and filled with a pure, unadulterated rage he had never seen directed his way before, Aita’s eyes glowed in the darkness, unnatural rings of red and blue and yellow staring back at him.

“Ai-”

Link’s words are cut short as Aita lunges at him, his short blade already drawn, the deadly sharp edge glinting in the red color the night sky had begun to take on. 

Aita was quick, had always been faster than any other Yiga Clan member Link had ever squared off with. But even still, he was faster.

With practiced hands and second nature movements, Link dodges the balde, the cold metal inches from his face, as he grips the hilt of the sword with one hand, the other setting to work on breaking Aita’s own vice like hold on the weapon. It’s only a moment later, through the sound of frustrated growls and grunts of pain, that he prys Aita’s hands off the hilt, making quick work to chuck the blade into the woods and well out of the way.

Immediately Link finds Aita straining against him, finds that his grip on the other man’s wrists isn’t strong enough to keep him from breaking a hand free, only to ball it into a fist and punch him squarely in the jaw.

He reeled for but a moment, pain blossoming like lightning over his cheek, his teeth aching from tip to root at the impact. When Aita wound up again, the eerie glow of his eyes growing brighter as the sky overhead deepend into a horrific crimson and purple and black, Link was ready. Grabbing at Aita’s wrist once more, this time holding it tightly enough that he was sure there would be bruising, the two locked eyes, Link’s brow furrowing as he spoke.

“Aita, stop it, it’s me! It’s just Link. Tell me what’s wrong!” 

Aita’s only answer is to scream in anger, to pull against the hands that held him, to try with all his might to break free. Link, some part of him confused and concerned and at a loss as to how to actually be of any help, found himself acting on instinct once more.

Releasing Aita’s wrists, he quickly wraps his arms around his arms and torso, pulling him into a tight hug, trying his best to calm him.

This seemed to do the exact opposite of what he intended as Aita let loose an anguished scream, his hands trying to claw at his back through his tunic, his head turned away, trying to pull himself from Link’s grasp. 

The blood moon was at its peak, black and red flecks swarming the air like hellish fireflies, and Link was still lost on what to do to help his friend.

“Aita, come on, tell me how I can help you!”

His answer is another scream, Aita’s voice now hoarse and over used, his entire body pulled tense under Link’s arms, his hands balled into fists once more, trying to punch at his his ribs-

As soon as it had started, it stopped. 

The red of the night sky evaporated, the forest noises began anew, and Aita’s eyes, still wreathed in a unnatural glow that had begun to rapidly dim, rolled up and into the back of his skull as he went limp in Link’s arms.

\--------------

The first thing Aita is aware of is that this must be some sort of terrible dream he was having.

Not only was he not at the campsite he clearly remembers helping set, he finds that the Hylian armor he had been borrowing from Link for some time now had been replaced with his old Yiga uniform. 

He had burnt that article of clothing, that direct link to a life he wanted to play no part in, the moment he had made the choice to defect. 

The space he does find himself kneeling in is unbearably hot and terribly cold at the same time, a awful, red glow the only source of illumination provided. He tries to move, tries to at least shift his weight to a more comfortable position, but finds that he cannot.

A part of him finds this worrisome, another part wonders if this was similar to the dream symbolism theory Link had tried to explain to him once.

**_Let us save symbolism for another time, boy._ **

The voice is cacophonous, shaking Aita’s very bones in his chest. Again, when he tries to move, this time to shield his ears, his body refuses, leaving him wincing in pain. A chuckle, twisted and wrong in its candor, greets his pain.

**_Look at me._ **

Against his will, he finds his chin raising, his eyes fixating on the being before him. He can feel the beginnings of a cold sweat break out along his hairline, his heart thudding in his throat.

Even without introduction, Aita could recognize that this...this  _ thing… _ was Calamity Ganon. 

The creature’s face, only just huminod, smiled grimly at him, its teeth blacked and rotting away from its gums. Malice swarmed its body, black and purple and hot with rage, its eyes like glowing coals, bearing all of its hate into him with just a glance. It was so much, too much, far too much to bear at once.

**_You were born to serve me, Aita. So long as you have life in your bones, so long as your soul has root in this world, you will be in service to m-_ **

The creatures words, heavy and unbearable though they were, were cut short as a burst of light cut through it, surrounded it, dragged it back into whatever terrible nest it had sprung from as that light seared through every inch of darkness-

Aita awakens abruptly, his brow slick with sweat, heart thudding heavily against his ribs, his body absolutely aching. He is still, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to see something, anything, in the darkness that might have told him where he was. His eyes adjust, slowly, and he comes to realize just what’s happened.

He’s been tucked into his bed roll, the blanket literally tucked between him and the mat beneath him; his head cradled against his pack, his hair undone and his hair tie safely around his wrist. The the fire, now low and just clinging to the red embers the wood had been turned into, is only a few feet from the end of his roll and he finds his mind completely rattled. He blinks once more, slower, his brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to think, tried to remember, past the thudding in his temples.

He remembers helping set camp.

He knows Link had begun to make dinner.

He recalls pulling bananas from his pack.

He feels a shiver ripple through him as the memory of the moon, bloodied and terrible, rose and all but poured pure rage into his veins.

Thereafter, everything feels surreal. In his memories, his hands aren’t his own, the malice and hatred coursing through him something alien. He remembers making contact with his fist against Link’s face remembers screaming, remembers the desperate look in Link’s eyes as he pleads with him to calm down.

He remembers everything fading and red filling his vision as a great, terrible darkness made him bow to it against his will.

He sits up then, perhaps a little too quickly, his vision swimming for a second as his temples give a particularly painful throb. Holding a groan of pain back, he pressed his fingers against his forehead and closed his eyes, trying to rub the pain away.

After a moment or two, the pain began to dull and soon the throbbing was nothing but a whisper of pressure on the back of his eyes. He sighed, partially in relief, running his fingers through his hair a few times.

What in world had all that been about?

He jumps a little bit as the sound of rustling brush sounds in the clearing, his instinct having him reach for a short sword that’s no longer at his side, gods where had he put it-

Panic begins to rise in his chest, but is near immediately squashed as a familiar voice follows the rustling.

“Aita, if you’re awake it’s just me, please don’t ninja attack me.”

A part of him is grateful for the consideration, another part of him just wants to go to sleep again and not have to discuss what had happened. But, he knows Link would have only given that warning if he knew Aita was so much as lightly sleeping; faking it wouldn’t do either of them any good now.

So, he watches in silence as Link clambers back into the clearing, awkwardly trying to hold both an arm full of firewood and, to his surprise the short sword he had been looking for not but a few moments ago.

He makes to stand up, to at least be of some use with the firewood, but immediately regrets it as that terrible pulsing pain flares up behind his eyes once more. He groans, gritting his teeth to will the pain back down, and finds himself on his ass once more.

“You feeling ok?” Link asks, letting the wood tumble from his arms, firmly stabbing the sword into the ground where the pile lay. He immediately began to rebuild the fire, making sure to feed the embers the driest twigs first, with the larger logs built around the small flame, a steady structure for it to climb up. Aita had come to learn, with everything Link did, he did so with such consideration.

“Yeah it’s just my head kinda hurts-” 

With a final poke to the fire, Link nodded, pleased with his work, and stood from where he had crouched. He took the few paces he needed to, kneeling down to rustle around in his own travel pack.

“I swear I had one more in here...Ah-ha!” He all but mumbled this under his breath, turning towards Aita, shuffling closer while still on his knees, a small vial in his outstretched hand.

Aita merely stared at the glass bottle, his eyebrow arching instinctively, as he looked back up as Link’s grinning face.

“It’s a Hearty elixir! Go on, it should help any ache you might be feeling.”

Aita looked to the bottle once more, taking it from Link’s hand and downing it all in one smooth motion.

While Link was absolutely right in that the moment the liquid pooled in his mouth, the throbbing began to truly dissipate, the taste was something entirely else. He felt his face pull into a grimace on its own accord, the only thing making it worth his while being the warming sensation that trickled down his throat and eased every aching muscle he didn’t even know he had.

He smacked his lips once, twice, his expression still pulled tight, as he tried to rid his mouth of the terrible taste.

Link snickered next to him, the grass rustling under him as he moved to finally sit.

“You willingly drink this? Like, more than once?” Aita asked, recorking the bottle and holding it out for Link to take back.

“Yeah but, really, it’s not so bad once you’re used to it. Honestly, until you’ve had to eat rock hard food, you haven’t truly tasted something gross.” He said, tossing the bottle back towards his pack, adjusting himself so he sat cross-legged.

Aita smirked at the comment, remembering how in his early life with the Yiga, when the youngest of them all had just started learning how to cook for themselves, Kei had made a truly awful mistake with one of the few recipes allotted to them. The resulting blacked mass, smoking and smelling awful, had been her dinner for that evening. He could still recall how they had all been made to stay in the mess hall until she had finished, each bite nearly bringing tears to her eyes, everyone else long finished with their perfectly cooked meals.

Only a few months ago, had anyone thought to ask him what the funniest childhood memory he had was, he would have given that as the answer.

But now, though the thought was humorous in a nostalgic manner, some part of him knew how cruel it was to make a child eat something that badly cooked.

“So,” Link began, breaking Aita from his thoughts, “I have to ask...does that normally happen to you? When a blood moon happens, do you always get like that?”

It was a simple question. 

For all of Link’s normal jokes and ways of asking things in a way that didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings, this was the most direct AIta had ever heard him be. Normally, this would have been soa line of questioning he would have enjoyed: a simple question with a simple answer to give.

But this, for some reason, sent ice through his veins.

“No, this...this was actually the first time. I’m...not sure why this happened.” He’s voice comes out even and calm, but can feel his palms grow clammy with each passing moment that Link remained silent. His gaze is focused to his lap, his teeth gritting again, his mind beginning to race.

What if Link thought he was lying? What if, and this thought alone made his chest ache for some reason, he was asked to leave? Asked to keep his distance from Hyrule’s savior and wander the world on his own?

Truly, Aita reasoned, that wouldn’t be too beyond the realm of reality for Link to ask of him, right? There was no time or place or reason for someone like him to keep such a liability like this by his side. If Aita couldn’t be of use, couldn’t control himself, why in the world would Link-

His thoughts, racing as they were, were stopped short once more as a hand rested on his forearm, squeezing gently.

“Aita, it’s ok. I promise, it’s ok.”

His attention flickers from his lap, to the hand on his arm, to the face it belongs to. A lifetime of training to mistrust any kind word given to you at work, Aita finds himself searching Link’s face, trying to find a glint of malice, a hint of deceit. But, as he had seen every time before, there was nothing but a genuine smile and something Aita couldn’t name on his travel companion’s face.

And, as always, it confused Aita to no end.

“Why? Why is something like this ok?”

The words fall from his mouth before he can stop them, the iciness in his chest nearly choking him. Didn’t he understand the inherent danger of this? The liability he would be taking on keeping someone like him close by?

“Because,” Link said, his hand gently squeezing once more, “you’re my friend, AIta.”

The ice in Aita’s chest all but shatters and warmth replaces it, filling him up and burning the skin on the back of his neck and ears.

“But-”

Aita doesn’t get to finish his thought as Link stands in one smooth motion, ruffling Aita’s hair in a playful manner. He swats at the offending hand, quickly pulling his hair back into its characteristic high ponytail, all but glaring up at Link.

“Look I trust you and I know that, whatever this was, if it happens again we can figure out something together. If this is the first time it’s ever happened, for all we know it could have been a fluke.” Link says as he turns his attention back to the fire, adding another log to the new healthy flame.

Aita sighs, finally standing, glad to see that any pounding or dizziness he might have felt earlier has been swept away by the Hearty elixir.

“I mean, that’s a best case scenario, right?” Aita said, taking the few strides needed to join the other by the fire, now only noticing that a small pile of Mighty Bananas and cane sugar near the pit.

“Than why don’t we stick with that best case scenario until we’re proven otherwise. I know you like to be prepared for anything possible but, in this case, we don’t even know what to really prepare for.” Link says, pulling Aita’s sword from where he had stuck it by the firepit, offering the handle to him.

Aita’s silent for a long moment, taking the sword from him and quickly reseathing it. As Link turns back to the fire, his eyes are glued to him as he works to peel the bananas and cane sugar, the other only turning away from his work to fetch a glob of goat butter from somewhere in his endlessly deep pack. 

“A compromise, than?” He says after another beat, watching as Link carefully slices the bananas into the cooking put, tossing in chunks of sugar right after. 

“Yeah, a compromise. Let’s give it time and see if this thing is even something worth worrying about, ok?"

Aita nodded, his mouth watering involuntarily as the pot begins to simmer and sizzle. It went against everything he’d ever known, to wait and see how something might turn out.

But, he reasoned, if Link  wasn’t afraid after what could have been a near brush with death, than Aita could learn to follow suite.

They spent the remainder of the evening making Fried Mighty Bananas, Link’s stew long forgotten.

Had Aita known just how awful things would eventually get, had he know exactly what it meant to be influenced by a blood moon, he might have left Link’s side that night and might have never looked back.


End file.
